This poem is written as part of Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus for the prompt "The pain was excruciating".
Tidying tidying
A mother's job is never done
Clearing clearing
Removing all the fun
Collecting collecting
All the tiny little pieces
Sorting sorting
Everything into sizes
Crying crying
As I step on one that's spiking
Hobbling hobbling
The pain was excruciating
Hopping hopping
Trying not to swear
Cursing cursing
The rubbish left everywhere
Smiling smiling
As I see myself in the mirror
Stopping stopping
No more do I care
Sitting sitting
Having a well earned rest
Relaxing relaxing
You can clear, be my guest
3 comments:
I loved this poem. Cute and very clever.
I could very clearly see my family room from years gone by... and I can recall that stabbing pain of going barefoot among the little pieces!
I love the way you wrote this!
That repetition is surprisingly enticing.
It made me want to recite it out loud...
...like a wonderful housewife story!
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